


Black and Lacey

by ballvvasher



Category: Actor RPF, Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, M/M, Rimming, Romanian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballvvasher/pseuds/ballvvasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  It’s time for Chris to host his traditional, unofficial-official-post-project party for the cast and crew of his latest project: Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Only, Chris wishes that trying to decide between ordering Papa John’s or Dominos was the extent of his problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black and Lacey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GraveVyxen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraveVyxen/gifts).



> I may or may not have written RPS. Okay, I did. Isn't it obvious.
> 
> For Ali, who has given me the gift of great boner fodder and also the gift of friendship, but I come from a place where those two are one in the same.

 

Sebastian strongly believes his diverse fashion taste has a bad habit of betraying him. Tonight, however, the young actor has combed his freshly cut hair into an immodest pompadour, while donning his favorite scarf and his snuggest waistcoat and skinny jeans, doing wonders to show off the labors of his recent physical training. To put it bluntly, he looks hot, and god knows this peak physique won’t be maintained much (if at all), so he’s not about to feel guilty for enjoying it for a short while. After all, athleticism was never his forte, unlike his costar Chris who impossibly balances each session at his home-gym-swimming pool paradise with a visit to Dunkin Donuts or In-N-Out Burger.

 _And who doesn’t like to feel sexy,_ he reasons to himself as he subtly adjusts the much more … _delicate_ garments concealed under his formfitting attire. Grabbing both hotel cards and the keys to his rental, Sebastian gives himself one last onceover in the mirror and discharges himself to the artificially lit streets of Los Angeles.

 

\--

 

                The turnout is a lot slimmer than Chris originally anticipated. To be honest, his pride was a little bruised after he only got about fifteen RSVPs— _‘cause who’s got better plans on a Saturday night than attending Captain_ America’s _party_ —but his guests all came at comfortably staggered intervals and they didn’t question the thin crowd. Besides, he appreciated more intimate company anyway. Anthony, Dominic, and even Haley honored their agreement to attend the get-together and arrived ten minutes early, and so far they’ve spent a majority of their time chatting and helping themselves to the extensive selection of alcohol that Chris often has on hand in his home.

Several others either came on time or a few minutes late, including Sebastian, who looked like he belonged printed on an Abercrombie paper shopping bag. Chris didn’t know anyone could be capable of walking in jeans that tight. And he was sure to catalog the genuine smile Sebastian offered him when Chris welcomed him into his home for the first time, then the look of bewilderment when he got an eyeful of the ample lavishments decorating his front rooms.

Too cute.

And Chris’d gotten several large pizzas for the gang, too, but he had almost forgotten he’d ordered any because no one appeared to be eating. Well, except for Sebastian, who Chris had to admit was looking quite adorable chowing on the remnants of a slice of stuffed crust, hunched over the armrest of Chris’s leather couch. Chris approached from behind him, nursing a Heineken, to tune into the tale Emily was dictating.

                “…and then I told the producer, if you want to keep your job, you’re gonna want to keep those remarks about our show-runner to yourself. It’s a bitch-eat-dog world under ABC’s umbrella. Worse than high school, I swear,” she admitted with despondence.

                “Damn shame,” Anthony agreed, and after hearing what they were discussing, Chris’s attention slipped almost completely. Chris’s fortunate enough to be in the business of ‘just making movies’ versus ‘gambling and toying with others’ to get on top, and doesn’t like immersing himself in the insolences of that side of showbiz.

He starts to wonder when was the last time he called his Aunt Marlene until his mind heeded to the tightness of Sebastian’s shirt over his back and shoulders, slightly hunched as he leaned over to contribute to the conversation. His laughter was goofy but pleasantly so, and Chris couldn’t seem to remove himself from the moment.

                Chris had never seriously considered the merit of Sebastian’s form, and he either picked the absolute best time or the worst possible time and place to ogle the guy, after Sebastian accidentally toppled the exceedingly large dish of peanut M&Ms that Chris had laid out (for himself, mostly). Chris stood behind his sofa staring past the clamorous scene and directly at little Sebastian, who exclaimed an _“Oh, shit!”_ and was practically on all fours attempting to gather the candies, ass poised for only Chris’s gaze to bore. Chris’s condition only worsened when Sebastian’s jeans compensated to his change in position by slipping to expose a slim strip of something …black and _lacey?_

Black and lacey. _Black and lacey._

“…Chris?”

Oh my god, _what_.

“Who—what?”

                “I said that I was sorry for breaking your bowl,” Sebastian said with a sheepish smile. Oh thank god, he was facing him. No lace-cladded ass in sight.  

Bowl? Right, the bowl. “Uh, it’s fine, it’s fine,” Chris blurted, feigning a smile. Coming back to the world around him, Chris noticed most of the party-goers had gone unaware of the little accident, probably because they were making good use of his home theater system, but Sebastian apologized again to Emily and Anthony for the disturbance. “Let me, uh, get a broom.”

 

 

\--

 

                Sebastian turned again, setting the large shards on the glass table the bowl originally had a place on. “Yeah, I uh…” Idly, Sebastian reached backward to adjust his jeans with one hand while looking at the other. “I think I cut myself. Didn’t think they were that sharp.” God, he could just die. Not only did he break one of Chris’s possessions, but now he’s bleeding all over the place. Okay, so he’s barely bleeding but he still thinks he should put some antiseptic on it. And Chris is blushing, quite uncharacteristically—in anger? Sebastian had never known the guy to fume over something so replaceable. Maybe it was a territory thing.

                Chris led the way to his kitchen, better lit and quieter than his living room. Sebastian hesitated before rinsing his hand under the tap. Now that the cut was cleared, he could see that it was much larger than he had estimated.

                “Here,” Chris’s voice cut in, and to Sebastian’s surprise he handed him a small adhesive bandage, looking away. “You can pay me back with another economy-sized bag of M&M’s,” he chuckled awkwardly.

                Sebastian smiled dumbly and took the offering. “Thanks. Here, why don’t you go tend to your party. I’ll take care of the mess.”

                “Nah, party’s a bust. Glad they found the channel for ESPN, though.” Chris still couldn’t look at him. This might be one of the last times he’ll get a private moment with Chris for a while and he doesn’t want to leave any bridges burned. Like, it was just a _bowl_ —

“Was it a gift? From your mom or girlfriend or something?”

“Hm?” This time Chris did look at him, but the guy looked genuinely confused by his question. His expression was a little pained, though, like he wanted to take the first train out of here. Here, his place of residence.

“The bowl? You seem really pissed. I’ll pay for—”

“No! No, no, I said it was fine—and I’m not pissed. Do I look pissed?” Chris was babbling now, which led his Sebastian himself to be infected with confusion.

                “I mean, you’re totally freaking out here,” Sebastian responded, almost jokingly, surprised by his forwardness.

                “I was just…caught off guard, is all,” Chris shook his head and peered through the window-like divider between the kitchen and the living room at the crowd.

                By the time Sebastian had finished fastening the bandage to his hand, the other man hadn’t moved from his double fisted perch against his kitchen counter. Something was bothering him, and his gut was warning him that it’s best not to pry because Chris could be having personal problems and it’s not like they are best friends or anything, but he could, possibly, help. Maybe. _Yeah, the guy who just broke his shit could play party-shrink for ten minutes._ Never mind.

 

\--            

 

“Uh, wanna get back to the party? Sounds like Haley busted out the DDR,” Chris said tightly as he grabbed for the broom leaning on the counter. _Freakin’ panties_. Sebastian’s over here wearing freakin’ panties and it wouldn’t even be that big of a deal but it’s not like he’d _shown_ them to Chris or talked to him about it. Some sick part of him is getting off on the fact that Sebastian is, um, wearing lacey undergarments, but another more perverse part of him is obsessing over the fact that Sebastian has no idea he’s seen them.

“Here, I got it. It’s my mess, so—”

“No, wait—”

And just like that, the broom clattered to the tile floor, and Sebastian took part in that ever growing ambition of his to bend _over_ for the offending object. And there it was, Sebastian Stan’s perfect little ass beaming up at him once again. And show’s over; that’s it for Chris, because the guy was bent, like, _over_ —full doubling at the waist—thus allowing the strip of _black and lacey_ to give Chris a teasing wink. Time practically stood still as Sebastian’s rump leveled perfectly for Chris to not only ogle up close and personally, but it was just the right level for Chris to be able to reach and _take_.

Jesus fucking Christ, Sebastian. _You and your damned panties._

“…What?”

 “Hm?” he choked. Fuck, did he say something out loud? Sebastian was standing upright again, brow puckered and eyes bulging slightly. His unabashed display of surprise had Chris reeling.

 

\--

 

“You and your damned panties,” Chris cut in softly, harshly from behind. Sebastian shot up immediately from gathering the toppled broom and dustpan, back as stiff as a board.

“…What?”

“Hm?” Now, Sebastian’s pretty sure he’s making a ridiculous expression—because _what the fuck_ —but Chris looks absolutely rattled. And he has no idea what that means. Sebastian’s not that much of an idiot, but somehow Chris knows about—

“My—,” Sebastian cut himself off, no longer meeting the taller man’s eyes and gasps a disbelieving chuckle _. What a fucking disaster_. “Look, man, I don’t know what the hell you’re—”

Sebastian stopped his defense to catch what brought his friend’s hopeless gaze down to his waist. Chris stood, arms crossed tightly over his chest almost comically so, as Sebastian fumbled with tucking in his waistcoat to hide the _little satin fucking bow_ peaking from the hem of his now obvious lingerie over pants that _really_ need a fucking belt.

Oh. _That’s probably what’s been happening,_ he realizes, as he reflects on the past…one, _two_ times he’s been in an asset-compromising position.

Looking at Chris sounds fucking impossible at the moment, and his face and neck are burning hot… and Chris is just silent as a grave, again. “I’m not some kind of pervert,” he mutters in defense, as he huffs and carefully squats—although his skinny jeans make it quite the feat—to avoid any more wardrobe malfunctions. He’s well past his window to say goodnight.

“Wait!” Chris interjects to his surprise, as he’s almost out of the archway to the less secluded areas of the house. Against his better judgment, Sebastian ushers himself back into Chris’s kitchen, still white-knuckling the broom. “I don’t—I don’t think you’re a pervert.”

 “…Okay,” he supplies. Chris’s just covering his ass, understandably.  

“Just—it’s not weird or anything. Well it is, but it’s not bad…Actually it’s very, very, very not…bad, um…” Chris’s arms are still crossed tightly as his forehead when he belts out whatever he’s trying to convey. _What in the hell is he rambling abou—_

Oh.

_Oh._

Suddenly, the fog of shame is cleared and Sebastian is like, ninety-five percent sure he’s not high when he concludes that all of Chris’s odd behaviors are aligning with something akin to _longing_. This is…what? Chris has admitted to him and several others that Sebastian was “adorkable” or the “sweetest kid ever,” so needless to say he’s surprised at this development.

But fuck it, Sebastian would be lying if he said he didn’t have a bit of a crush on the guy. Nice, funny, talented, _and_ gorgeous? And this guy’s got eyes for _him?_ It’s almost too improbable to believe.

He’s also ninety-five percent sure Chris’s completely ashamed of himself, but now that Sebastian feels less embarrassed (but not completely), he’s one-hundred percent sure he wants to change the game.

 

\--

 

Chris doesn’t know why he says it, but he can’t just let Sebastian leave thinking that Chris was disgusted with him. He’d much rather take the hit and be pegged the pervert for fixating on another guy’s underwear, than make Sebastian think he’s done something wrong. “I’m sorry, it’s just not every day you come by lookin’ all—” Chris tries to divert his confession with a gruff clearing of his throat and gesturing to Sebastian’s top, then middle, then _bottom_.

When Sebastian blinks slowly in his now very evident bewilderment and Chris is feeling pretty damn helpless. _God, what a disaster._

Now they’re caught in some silent staring contest, but there’s only a few moments of that mess until Sebastian blinks and his confused gaze turns electric. “Let’s go clean up that mess,” he drawls effectively, softly, and not breaking eye contact while he backs out of the arch leading to the hall that joins the kitchen to that side of the house, still holding the broom and dustpan. “You coming?” Chris probably looks really fucking stupid with his jaw and eyebrows competing to escape the region of his face.

And Sebastian just _smirks_ , although demurely but it’s still a smirk _,_ as he turns and heads back to the party. Sebastian’s not teasing him, well, he’s being a tease but he’s not poking fun and Chris’s obvious affections. Sebastian, his friend and colleague of the past several years, is full out coming onto him and Chris can’t remember the last time he’s felt _this_ helpless. _Oh right, that was ten seconds ago._

Chris has no choice but to follow after the man who was so obviously exaggerating his hips while walking. He’s screwed.

 

\--

 

After he and Chris toss the rest of the fallen candies into the waste bin in the living room, Sebastian had to find some way to get his pulse back to something resembling normal. He doesn’t really know where the night’s headed, but their conversation from earlier is far from over. Sebastian targets Chris with another meaningful look from his spot on one of Chris’s corner chairs, a look which Chris finally reciprocates, and there’s no denying it now.

They’re totally going to fuck once all their friends leave.

 

\--

 

      It takes entirely too long for all their friends to leave.

     “Thanks again, man. I just wish I could’ve drank more of your booze, but I don’t got a designated driver tonight,” Anthony joked, and Chris chuckled good-naturedly.

     “Safe drive!” He’s grinning madly, he knows it, but Anthony’s the last one to go. Chris only hopes he didn’t slam the door after him too hard.

The click of the deadbolt locking into place resounded throughout the empty front room.  Chris had to take a moment to collect himself, to make tidy of his thoughts. Sebastian was in the living room waiting for him. Sebastian, his friend in the black, lacey panties. Waiting. For him. _And just what the hell are_ you _waiting for?_

Chris bee-lined through the foyer to the where he last saw Sebastian about five minutes ago in the living room. After a quick scan of the area, Sebastian was nowhere to be found. Did he leave? Change his mind? He was practically running around the bottom floor of his house, now. Not in the half-bath, the kitchen…Chris was panicking; he was so sure that Sebastian wanted—

He stopped abruptly when he saw two canvas shoes resting on his staircase. _Sebastian’s,_ both memory and logic supply. Chris swallowed thickly and followed up his staircase to the master bedroom, tipping open the door slowly just enough to let himself in.

“Took you long enough,” came a sultry voice.

Chris’s mouth nearly went dry when he beheld the site of his half naked friend standing on the wood of his bedroom floor. _Oh, Jesus fucking Christ_. There they were; the tight, black, satin, lacey panties hugging his cock almost too impeccably. But that’s not all, because Chris’s investigations failed to unveil the shimmering thigh-high panty-hose stockings stretched over his legs with matching lacey garters, connected to the panties with dark garter belts. Inch by inch, Chris stepped closer to the site he was feasting upon.

“Do you like them?” Sebastian asked, breaking the silence.

Chris’s eyes shot up to the other man’s, and when he saw the blatant apprehension in his friend’s face, he knew he was already messing this up. There he was, gaping like he’s seen the sky fall and all-around being incredibly selfish, while Sebastian is standing before him practically naked, both literally and figuratively.

“You look incredible.”

Sebastian smiled, this time. Not coyly, but like he was finally enjoying himself, and that made Chris smile genuinely in return. The tension dissipated slightly, but Chris still swallowed against his nerves. “May I kiss you?”

Sebastian’s smirk returned when he responded by stepping closer, decreasing the space separating them. Up in Chris’s personal space, he brought his hand to grip a heaving bicep through his dress shirt and just _breathed_ around and into his mouth for several long seconds. “What’re you waiting—”

                His teasing was cut short, but Chris committed such an act for the greater good—because now they were kissing and losing chasteness with each one, yet never bordering anything too violent or desperate. They’ve got all night, after all.

Although all touching has been completely innocent as of the moment, they part gasping. Sebastian’s hands are running up and down his arms soothingly. “Time to get you out of all this,” he murmurs, voltaic eyes darting about Chris’s face and bust.

Sebastian wasn’t fumbling with his shirt like Chris knew he’d be doing if he’d assumed responsibility for his top. He’s got the other part down, though.  There’s only one button to his pants, luckily, and once he’s bare-chested and in his boxer-briefs, Chris thinks it’s about time to extend the borders of their petting zones.

Chris watched aptly as his own hands travel downwards across his partner’s chest, reveling in the variety of textures his body supplied. His fingertips practically buzz when he connects them with Sebastian’s panty-clad hips, stroking the thin fabric of the top hem, and dipping a finger to feel the hidden skin. Chris enjoyed observing the strength coiled in the lean muscles of his friend’s body, so different from his own bulkier frame, but he decided he preferred kissing over gazing, and pulled the shorter man by his hips into another frenzied kiss. It’s his hands’ job to learn the rest of his body, anyway.

Chris, now feeling much bolder, settles his grip on that perfect ass he planned on getting acquainted with, surely. His efforts earned him a throaty groan that traveled into his own mouth like an electric current. Sebastian’s own hands have made themselves at home in Chris’s apparently quite graspable hair, and over his equally graspable clothed ass.

Inevitably, their extraordinarily erect cocks meet in the middle, heated cotton on heated satin. Chris’s thigh finds a home for itself between Sebastian’s resulting in the slightly shorter man to groan appreciatively.

“ _Shit_ ,” Sebastian pants into the side of his face after a short session of groping and dry-humping. “H-have you ever done this with a—”

“Yeah, but, just—just the basics,” Chris was having a great time making a mess of Sebastian’s neck right now. Good thing he likes to wear scarves. It’s a miracle that he’s got enough blood in his body to make his head throb as hard as his dick, because this is all too, just _too..._ oh, here goes everything— “Can I try something?” Chris requests, voice heavy in his ear. He lifts his hand to finger Sebastian’s twitching red lips.

                Sebastian moves, then, giving a quick, silent nod against his neck. Chris swallows thickly. “Get on the bed. On your hands and knees.”

 

\--

 

Sebastian is almost too far gone to care that he blurts another desperate, _effeminate_ whimper at Chris’s orders. Complying, he relinquishes his hold on the other man and turns to place himself on the expanse of the unmade bed. His limbs settle into the cushion of the mattress while Chris remains off site for the time being, and it’s not like that’s making him nervous, but here and now, he’s completely opened up before Chris’s regard. He decides he feels positively exhilarated.

“Look to your left,” Chris guides, and Sebastian doesn’t know how he’s missed it, but the doors to the closet are gigantic mirrors, and he shudders as he gets an eyeful of himself: back arched and legs parted, forcing his adorned ass and thighs to protrude wantonly. Chris’s astonished gaze meets his own in the mirror when he joins him on the bed from behind, placing both hands on either of his stockinged thighs. Sebastian closes his eyes, leaning back into the sensation with another groan.

Chris’s hands travel upwards, slipping through the leg holes to cup Sebastian’s cheeks. And again, the hands travel downwards over the garter, stroking over the smooth fabric of the pantyhose rhythmically. In short, Sebastian is very hot and bothered, and if something doesn’t happen soon—“ _Oh!_ ”

 

\--

 

Chris traced his hands up once more to knead Sebastian’s ass, and daringly brought his head close to mouth at the entrance hidden beneath the delicate layer of cloth. He relinquishes one gripping hand to reach around and fondle the other man’s erection, while maintaining his ministrations—now with tongue—on his ass.

Still working him through the fabric of the panties with his hands and tongue, he caught Sebastian’s eyes in the mirror. The sight of his friend, splayed like a, well like a _whore_ and looking abso _lutely_ wrecked and matching his gaze with shameless desire, combined with the texture of the heated satin in his mouth and about his fingers, caused him to groan into Sebastian’s ass, cloth now damp with his saliva. By now, Chris’s cock was tenting obscenely in his boxer-briefs, and he brought the hand that was on Sebastian’s side to quell his arousal, only for a moment. He has bigger and better plans than just using his hand, however. Chris lifts his face from his friend’s behind. “May I…?”

“Yes, _god,_ anything,” Sebastian moans as his arms buckle from beneath him. He hides his face with a trembling hand as he exposes himself even more decadently, and Chris uses this new angle to halt the attentions he’s giving to his friend’s leaking, satin-clad cock—earning an indignant noise at that—and to carefully tug down the panties, just enough to bare his hole. It was impossibly pink and supple beneath his fingertips, and Chris had to wonder how he could find someone’s asshole this captivating. Someone ought to be giving it the attention it deserves, all hours of the day.

Sebastian’s shoulders and back tighten when he finally breaches his rim with his tongue, laving over and inside the area that was slowly relaxing to his touch. Chris brings his hands to trace the silken tights stretched over capable thighs, and decides they were totally stupid for not doing this earlier. His friend is just so insufferably _responsive_ that he honestly feels like he’s been missing out on something.

Chris ripped another yelp from his partner when he delved his tongue inside him as far as he knew how. He tried desperately to continue several dips, and although his tongue was starting to protest with exertion, he just _had_ to continue to get Sebastian to keep on making those delectable sounds. Sebastian’s ass was quivering noticeably by now, and Chris gave each cheek a hard squeeze as he nibbled around his hole, growing more pliable because of his attentions.

His friend abruptly push backwards into Chris and tore his hand from his rouged face down to his neglected cock, angling his head to pin him with a bleary glare. “Come _on_ , if you’re gonna!”

 “I am! I am,” he appeased, startled at Sebastian’s demands. He clamored across his bed to the nearby nightstand and pulled out his lube and a condom. He sat back on his haunches, focusing on stilling his trembling hands to extract a proper amount from the bottle to coat his fingers evenly and thoroughly. Chris isn’t one to cut corners with these types of—

“Oh, for crying out—here!” In an abrupt movement, Sebastian twists onto his back, stockinged legs shooting high as he yanks the lube from Chris’s now slick hands to squirt on his fingers. _The guy must have a_ lot _of practice with these things_ , Chris muses, now dazed as his friend bends to finger himself without lacking any finesse.

 

\--

 

Sebastian doesn’t dare turn his head to the side of the room with the mirror while he scissors his fingers inside himself. All he knows is that he has to get Chris’s cock inside him _now_ or he just might die. He inhales curtly as his partner enters one of his own fingers along his own, but given the impressive protrusion Chris’s boxer-briefs are experiencing— _he’s still got those on?—_ he’ll need all the prep he can get.

Chris’s fingers bend deliciously into his prostate, and his body quivers in response. His reaction does not go unnoticed by the larger man, who is pinning him with an unfeigned look of wonder that Sebastian doesn’t deserve. The fingers inside him animate from inside him once more, thus pulling a surprisingly shrill cry from his throat, and Chris’s blown pupils are beating into his own and—oh _fuck_ ing hell—his fingertips are scrutinizing that spot again and again and again and _again_ —

“God, if you don’t get in me right now, I’m gonna—” he sobbed, cutting himself off when the fingers were removed from his hole and the heat from Chris’s body dissipated after he moved to strip himself his underwear, revealing his sizeable girth. Sebastian suspects Chris is the biggest he’s taken yet.

His friend’s forehead creased as he rushes to roll on the condom, and Sebastian lifts his legs higher and arches his back slightly in anticipation. It seems like Chris has got it under control, so he removes the rest of his fingers from inside himself, groaning at the loss of intrusion. “ _Mmh_ , come on…I want it bad, Chris, please,” he whines, earnest.  Chris couldn’t deny him _now_ , not after what he’s seen from the guy.

Large hands come up to gather the undersides of his knees when Chris breaches him. His partner’s shout accompanies his moan as they sink closer and closer into and around each other. “ _Fuck_ ,” Chris laments—in sympathy for himself, if anything. Sebastian’s shaking hand is tending to his own cock as Chris inches deeper and deeper until he’s balls deep inside him— _Chris Evans is balls fucking deep inside him_ —and Sebastian is so fucking ready to get pounded into this memory foam mattress.

“’m ready,” he sighs, and he brings one arm to throw over his eyes, because Chris is so huge and he’s moving out then in then out again then they’re fucking.

The panties and stockings maintain their positions, and the lace chafing their cocks only add to the intensity as Chris slams home inside him, only changing the rhythm to go faster and harder and to hit _that spot_ that is making Sebastian’s eyes water. Chris drops his hands from propping his legs high to fold them into his chest, gripping the bare skin between his twisted panties and the stockings, hard enough to bruise. _He’s probably doing_ everything _hard enough to bruise,_ Sebastian muses through the haze of his addled mind.

When Sebastian accidentally catches his own gaze in the mirror, he barely recognizes himself: face red and mouth redder, eyes wet and dark and round, stockinged legs hanging suspended on either side, and his entire body dithering from the effort of Chris’s thrusts…it all makes him impossibly harder. Sebastian watches Chris’s powerful legs, arms, back, ass, and Chris just fucking _ruining_ him one dexterous thrust at a time. All those workouts sure are good for something because he is showing no signs of stopping, and he’s panting in his ear, confessing all sorts of platitudes he’d have never expected from his friend— _God, you’re so fucking tight, just look at you, opened all for me, all this for me; you’re so beautiful, you’re so fucking beautiful._

\--

 

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” Chris’s mumblings turned to pleads, mouthing at Sebastian’s jaw and pawing at his nipples. The man underneath him turned his head in compliance and their foreheads joined as if on instinct. If he could form coherent thoughts, he’d measure his surprise on how he had lasted this long, to be honest. But for now he’s reduced to frenzied ruts and ramblings—that Sebastian appears to be enjoying—and the body beneath his is so lithe and hot and pliable that he’s almost sure he never wants to fuck any other.

Sebastian’s battered lips fail to form anything resembling words and Chris silences him with his own, tonguing the inside of his mouth with deep strokes thus mimicking the methodical pumps he’s making in and out of Sebastian’s ass. “ _Dumnezeul meu_ ,” Sebastian groans deliriously after their lips part with a wet pop. This captured Chris’s attention through the haze because that was _not_ the same type of nonsense he was muttering earlier.

“ _Aproape acolo_ —da, da, _da!_ ”

Okay, Chris is fairly certain Sebastian’s speaking another language and that may not have been on his bucket list but it damn near should have been, because talk about fucking someone so hard they forget how to speak _English._ Encouraged, Chris moves impossibly faster, pulling more and more foreign phrases from his partner as they push closer and closer to climax. He’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t feel this for the next few days.

                He’s about a hairsbreadth from coming so he brings his hand to join Sebastian’s underneath the lacey hem of the panties, squeezing the base of his cock effectively. The man beneath him seizes, back arching from the mattress and short fingernails clawing into Chris’s shoulder. And—holy shit, Chris could fucking weep as Sebastian’s gaze grows wide and unfixed as he comes, ass clamping around Chris and cock shooting between their stomachs and chests. Chris slams into his writhing body once, then twice, and then shouts erratically as he pulses inside Sebastian, earnestly maintaining the thrusts until it’s just too fucking much. He finds that collapsing on his friend then surging into a breathless, mouthy kiss is a proper follow-up to the truly remarkable sex that just took place. After Chris pulls out and tosses the tied condom to the floor, they lay still, boneless, exchanging only kisses and body heat.

 

\--

 

From his place at Sebastian’s side, Chris brings a thumb to his face to dab at the tears that must have slipped during the effort of their love-making several minutes prior. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at the numerous displays of his inability to control himself. His agitation and impatience, babbling Romanian in desperation, and the _tears?_ Chris was clearly into it, if fucking him six ways ‘til Sunday wasn’t evidence enough, but he couldn’t stop the shame from burning from deep inside. He rarely loses control during sex like that.

Finally, Chris breaks the silence. “Thought I was the one that thinks too hard,” he murmurs into his cheek.

Sebastian can’t hold it in any longer. Scooting away from Chris slightly, he swallows thickly. “I’m sorry that I—look, I never really…” he pauses, suddenly not sure how to explain.

“What the hell’re you ‘pologizing for,” Chris finishes for him, moving bodily and filling in the space between them. The larger man tries to pin Sebastian’s eyes with his own, but he doesn’t have to work that hard to avoid them after Chris gives up fairly quickly, because apparently kissing him is an easier feat. Sebastian allows this, of course. Chris’s lips are so soft and warm that he might think they’re his absolute favorite pair. After a few dozen blissful seconds of this, they part, breathing into each other wetly. “You’re amazing. And I’d very much like to have sex again. If you want to,”

This doesn’t surprise him. He hopes his grin appears genuine when he responds with, “Of course.”

“Awesome,” Chris laughs. “I hope you don’t have any plans in LA today, ‘cause now you’re all booked,” he implores, climbing then pressing him into the bed pointedly. They’re in no shape to get it up again, but that doesn’t stop Chris from bringing his hand to trace the back of his dampened panties, pushing a finger to trace his still swollen, oversensitive rim.

“ _Ah!_ ” he gasps without reserve at the sensation. God, he just wishes he could control himself.

Chris bends to nip at his neck and Sebastian’s sure he’s purring like a cat now, and it’s so _frustrating_ —

“Hey, what’s that look?” Chris asks, slightly urgently as he paints Sebastian’s face with that confused, puppy-dog gaze of his.

“What look?” he pouts.

“That _look_. You’re upset with something,” Chris moves to lie on his side again, close to Sebastian as if he knows he’s not the nuance. Suddenly, as if he could see Sebastian’s thoughts, he shoots up from his pose of leisure. “Hey, we totally don’t have to—”

“What? No, it’s not—I’d really, _really_ love to screw again if you don’t mind, but,”

“But what?” _Oh,_ cool _it with those eyes, man_.

“It’s just,” God, why is this so difficult—“it’s really frustrating when I can’t…control myself. Oh, I don’t know…”

Realization sparks in his friend’s eyes. “Oh,” By now their breathing is steady, and Chris turns to lie back and stare at the ceiling. “Well,” Chris comments almost timidly, “I really liked it when you lost it for a bit there. And I know that’s not exactly helping your case, but it wasn’t like I was driving with both hands on the wheel the whole time...”

 “Well, you’re not wrong,” he grins sincerely, considering Chris’s words. During Sebastian’s implicit and accidental seduction, for the lack of a better word, he at least had that…control? Guide? In part, that is why he chooses to dress in women’s lingerie, because not only does he have killer legs, but he’s also materializing, _embracing_ that private part of himself in a way he so chooses.

Chris turns his head to him from his recline, and Sebastian copies the action so they are face to face. “I guess we can lose our minds together then, hm?”

He smiles wider at his friend’s reassurances. “Damn right,” he hums, and his grin turns wicked as he springs from his position to straddle his partner, reveling in the twinge he gets from his ass at the movement. See, Chris is totally gorgeous, but his sympathetic and patient heart is really starting to seal the deal. Not that there’s a deal or anything. To anything. Sebastian doesn’t even know what _this_ is, but whatever it is, he’s sure as hell he could get used to it.

 

\--

 

The panties and stockings are still in a remarkable condition, which does not go unnoticed by Chris, who is finding solace in petting the shimmery thighs framing his sides. Although he’s sure Sebastian has felt Chris’s heartbeat through his asshole, he’s not exactly good friends with the guy. Because of this, he doesn’t know if it’s his place to ask why he dresses in underwear meant for a woman. But he’s not fucking complaining because apparently he finds Sebastian in drag the sexiest thing ever. However, they have plenty of time to reacquaint themselves with each other’s bodies, and there’s nothing really stopping them from following that with learning how to flip those certain switches in their minds. For now, Chris accepts the presence of mystery behind the pretty face. 

 

 

\--

 

Romanian Translations:

 

_Dumnezeul meu! - "my God!"_

_Aproape acolo, - "Almost there,"_

_Da - "yes!"_


End file.
